May 15th, 2002

caillebotte_man at his window


The details of the world slowly emerge as the northeastern sky glows brighter and brighter, and all the mystery of night is drained away. Colors begin to show; the sky passes through ever paler shades of blue, green replaces black on the trees and lawns, and lines of lavender and pink streak the eastern horizon. After a stillness, the birds begin to sing. One mystery replaces another.
caillebotte_man at his window

(no subject)

It seemed as though too little light was leaking in around the shades when I woke, and I thought it was still early morning. But it was a cloud covering the sun, and it moved aside as I opened the window to a bright afternoon. The day had turned fine and hot, and as I walked, the remaining clouds drifted further south and east, over the valley and the lake. At the end of the road, where the land drops into a side canyon that drops steeply down toward the river, I could see, beyond the treetops, the distant ridges that reach out from the mountains. It is only a narrow view, hemmed in by the nearby trees, and it has always seemed to me like a miniature, or an illustration confined on the page of a book. It is a pleasant place to stand for a while. The forest round about is full of bird songs, and butterflies flashing in the sunlight.

Later, while walking home, I watched as the high, thin clouds in the south shifted and shrank. They reminded me of the hems of breakers receding from a beach. Pausing for a moment at the edge of an open field, I saw in the distance a single hawk circling slowly against a white wave of cloud. By the time I reached my house, the clouds had all but vanished, and I sat for a while in the shade of the mulberry tree, watching that splendid blue void and listening to the fluttering of leaves in the afternoon breeze.